These men are complete beasts!
by BucketsOfCrazyLove
Summary: What would happen if England got pissed, changed the Bad Touch Trio into wolves and they found an unsuspecting human girl to help them get their real forms back? And what would happen when the unsuspecting girl decides that their love lives are such messes she has to help them with that too? I'll tell you. This would happen. BTT, FrUK, Spamano, PruAus, lemony-ness.
1. Chapter 1

Sue's POV

I was walking down the road, making my way home. It was late. Midnight, or so. I had to pass through the woods to reach my house. The forest wasn't a big one. Actually it was fairly small, and nothing ever happened here. Here, in these woods, in this town, in my life. But tonight I had this feeling. This feeling coiling like a sick snake at the pit of my stomach.

Maybe it was the slight drizzling rain falling on my hunched bony shoulders, making me shudder and shiver. Maybe it was the eerie shadows cast by the moonlight that melted through patches of missing leaves. Maybe it was the deafening silence that came from the highway that ran along the miserably small forest. I didn't know. But I was freaking my brains out.

I should have taken a cab. Or carried a torch. Or something. I told myself that I was being ridiculous, that nothing was going to happen, and I was just going to arrive at my house, take off my soaked clothes and sink myself in my bath. Then I was going to make a mug of hot, very, very hot, chocolate and curl on my couch, watching whatever was on just to pass time and not think of anything else. Yes, yes, that was what was going to happen. Absolutely, without a doubt.

I shivered again, crossing my arms in front of my chest and curling my shoulders more towards my body. I kept imagining hot baths and chocolate and couches to distract myself from my pounding, crazy heart. I was scared for no reason. What, was I expecting murderers to jump at me? Like a murderer would be out in such a weather. Nah, he'd be home looking over his trophies and all that shit. Jesus, I had been watching too much 'Dexter' lately, or what? I shook my head at my silliness and started walking more sure of myself.

That was when I heard the manic laughter. It was a scream of a sound, wild and unobtainable. And I wouldn't have been able to say that that cackle of "Kesesese"s had been laughter at all, if not for the gleefulness hidden behind the sound. I jumped right out of my skin, and shrieked. Muttering a litany of four lettered words I scrambled as fast as I could, without running, towards the direction of my house.

That was when something whooshed right behind my back. And I ran. Full-blown running, my old, worn sneakers slapping against the wet road, my mousy, shortish hair flying around my head, until the light rain plastered them to my skull. I kept my eyes glued to the next curve of the road, and just thought "Get to the damn house, Sue. Get to the damn house!"

I had nearly made it to the curve, when a mass of dark brown fur burst from the trees, fell to the road and practically skidded to a halt right in front of me. I whelped and scrambled backwards, away from the wolf. I turned around sharply to run to the direction I had come from, but suddenly there was a huge–fucking huge!– white wolf right there. Standing right fucking in front of me. And, shit, were his eyes red? God, they were red. Crimson red, like blood. Ah, great. This guy wasn't only a humongous wolf, it was a _demonic_ humongous wolf. Motherfucking great.

And then, as I stood there, looking rapidly between the white and the now standing smaller brown wolf, and didn't expect anything to get worse, my fucker of a friend, Murphy's law, decided to kick in, and from behind the brown wolf came trotting _another_ wolf, this one blond, his fur shiny and slightly longer than the other two's. And the damn thing was coming towards me like it was walking on the damn catwalk!

Okay, someone must have been playing a very, very ugly prank on me. And it was just surreal. It had stopped being terrifying when the blond wolf had appeared. I looked up at the sky. "Dude, seriously? Now? Three wolves. Good one." I wasn't making sense as I spoke to whoever(fate, karma, God, who the fuck knew?) but why would I care? It wasn't like anyone could understand me!

And exactly after that thought made it to my brain, that spoiled little brat with his fucking law, Murphy, came again, and fucking sucker punched me. Because, do you know what happened next? _This _happened next: "Ah, Prussia, you're scaring the poor dear. Stop looking like a wild animal."

I stared at the blond wolf, my jaw practically touching the ground my eyes wide. Oh, Lord, this was rich! This blond beast, that had somehow managed to keep his fur looking so good, even in this shitty weather, didn't only talk, but he had a fucking French accent too!

I was so sure that I was going to start screaming, that it came as a complete surprise when I started cackling hysterically and clutching my side as I laughed and cried at the same time. Because this was absolutely ridiculous.

"Ah– amigos, I think this chica's crazy. She can't help. Can we go see Roma now? Please?" And I laughed harder as the brown wolf spoke too, the words heavy with a Spanish accent this time. And the thing was, the wolf was probably right. I was going mad! And those speaking canines were probably going to eat my alive now. I stopped laughing abruptly, and peered wearily at the white wolf, waiting for his reply. That scary grin never left his face. If it was a grin. It seemed more like a bearing of teeth. By now, he was the only one of the three wolves that I was truly, really terrified of.

He scowled at me. "Damn! France, it's all your fault! That Brit wouldn't have turned us in wolves if you haven't said that to him! And now, the chick you picked to go find the book is a nutter! I'm still wondering why I hang out with you!" This one had a thick German accent, his 'w' turning into a 'v'. I realized he wasn't addressing his words to me, but I still got offended by the nutter comment, and decided I should go along with the situation, and whatever the hell happened.

"Hey!" I snapped at the red-eyed creature. "My brain is perfectly fine, thank you very much! And anyway, I would never do anything for you guys, since you don't look like you would ever ask nicely!" My fear was slowly dissolving, and it left me almost completely when I noticed the small yellow bird nestling between the white wolf's ears.

Said wolf seemed to be raising an eyebrow at me. "Bitch, please, I don't ask, I order. And anyway, it's better if you do things for yourself. Alone." And he turned to leave. The brown wolf pounded next to me and ran after the other, calling "Prussia!" for some weird reason.

I turned back to the blond wolf who was staring at the other two exasperated. I shook my head at him. "Who– no, what the fuck are you people?!" The creature smiled at me, and if he had been human, I bet the smile would be charming, if not sexy as fuck.

"Why, my dear, we are the personifications of the countries of France, Spain and Prussia turned into wolves by my– I mean, by the personification of England." The smooth way he said it, his voice only catching bitterly at the "my" point, made it sound almost, _almost, _believable.

I stared, dumbfounded for a moment, before I started shaking my head from side to side, denying what the canine had just said. "No. No way. That's just fucking crazy!" The animal raised a perfectly blended with his fur eyebrow at me. "Tu es sur? Because you are having a conversation with a talking wolf. What is so difficult to believe about the existence of personifications of nations?" I gave up, shaking my head in resignation.

"Fine, whatever, be a wolf nation for all I care, I'm going home." I started walking past him, but he stepped in front of me. "Arretes! Non, non, non, non, non, you're not going anywhere! You have to help us!" Okay, I was getting pissed now, obscenely pissed, even with the situation being as crazy as it was. I put my hands at my waist and glared at the French wolf.

"Piss off! I want to go home and I will as I damn well please!" The canine stared at me, before dissolving into a fit of laughter. "Regardes-tu! You sound just like him! Oh, cruel fates!" I frowned at him.

"Huh? Like him, who?" The laughter was cut off just as surprisingly as it had began. "Like Angleterre" he whispered, and I was surprised at how nostalgic and wanting and helpless the wolf's voice sounded. I sighed. Why, Lord, did you make me such a sucker for desperate people? And large canines.

I sat down right in front of him on the ground, and extended my hand. "Look, I'm Sue. What's your name? I can't go on referring to you as in "blond wolf-dude in my brain"." His sparkling blue eyes met mine, and he grinned slightly. "Why, my dear, I am France, but since you are so nice you can call me Francis."

I raised an eyebrow. "What, that's like, your human name or something?" Francis' grin became wider, and his teeth flashed in the twilight. "Oui. Oui, exactement." I shook my head again, and decided I liked the Frenchman/wolf/whatever.

"And the others? How do I call the others?"

"Ah, la bête, il est Gilbert. Or Prussia, as a country. The other one, the one obsessed with Romano, is Antonio, or Spain." And on that note the other two wolves came, Antonio walking happily towards us, with a cheeky grin plastered to his face, Gilbert dragged his paws across the road, grumbling German gibberish.

I got up, and waved at the happy Spaniard. "Hello, we didn't officially meet before, you know when you called this chica here crazy? Yeah, I'm Sue. And you're Antonio, right?" He nodded and said "Nice to meet you, chica. So, are you going to help us? Because I have to get back my human form. I have to admit my love to my little Romano and–"

"Yeah, yeah, we heard you, dummkopf. And I have people to terrorize and walk around being awesome. And that prissy piano player can't get irritated on his own, I have to be there to show him my awesomeness and call him names." I frowned at that last part.

"O-kaaay. Gilbert, dear, calm down. So. First, for me to help you, you have to follow me home, so I can change into dry clothes, because I can hardly change you back into human form all wet."

So, I span around and continued making my way home, this time with three talking wolves around me, walking at my heels like pets, and strangely, I think I liked how the night had evolved into this peculiar fairy tale.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, chapter two. And I really should start switching POVs at some point. Damn. Anyway, I'll adore you if you review for me. Like, seriously adore you. So, that means... Review, Goddamnit! Okay, I'm kidding. And also ranting. So, I'm gonna shut up now...**

Sue's POV

"Welcome to my humble home, nationwolves!" I said as I unlocked and opened the door, making a grandiose gesture with my hand towards the inside of the house. Gilbert rushed to run inside, but I stood in his path.

"Eh, eh, eh! Where do you think you're going, mister? Dry your paws on the mat first. I won't be wiping the floors all night." The Prussian threw me the stank eye. .

"The awesome me doesn't need to wipe his paws on anywhere!" I crossed my arms in front of my chest and raised an eyebrow. He snarled at me, but complied, scrubbing his damp paws on the doormat. Then he walked when I stepped aside.

"There you go! Was that so difficult?!" He sneered at my words, throwing a "Verpiss dich" behind his shoulder before going further in the house. I didn't know what it meant, but I would bet my favorite panties it was cussing. I let it slide, and looked at the two others.

Francis wiped his blond paws and trotted inside, his somehow perfectly combed tail swishing from side to side. Of course he did that all completely stylishly. I rolled my eyes. I bet that guy fucking pissed in style.

Antonio quickly followed after the Frenchman, after cleaning up. His uppity-ness was gone, and he walked clumsily and pouting. I shook my head, stepped in and closed the fading red door behind us.

"Okay, guys, listen. Here's the hall. Go towards there and at the right there's the living room, at the left the kitchen. Upstairs are the bedroom and bathroom. Okay?" They nodded, looked around as if to judge if the house was nice enough for them(Francis), smiled widely(Antonio) and said "Ja, we're not fucking stupid!"(Gilbert. Obviously)

Ι ignored them, dumped my bag next to the umbrella holder and I took my shoes off. I hurried to the kitchen, throwing a "You go to the living room!" behind my shoulder. Three minutes later I came out with three cups of water balancing in my hands. I placed them on the floor in front of the wolves.

"Here you go!" But they didn't make any move towards the bowls. Francis raised an eyebrow at me, and he looked like he was about to make some sarcastic remark in the smart French accent of his, but Gilbert butted in.

"What the hell is that?! The awesome me cannot simply drink water!" I threw my hands in the air.

"Gee, Gilbert, dude! You're such a pain in the fucking ass!" But I took his bowl, and emptied the water in the flower pot on the table. "What do you want instead of water, oh, you amazing awesomeness?"

He smirked. "Beer, duh." I looked at the ceiling in exasperation. Great. Drunk wolf-people-countries was all I needed in my life. But I was pretty sure arguing with the crazy white wolf would be futile.

"Fine. Does anyone else want any?" I looked at the other two. Antonio stayed silent, but Francis answered me.

"No. Mais, ma cherrie, some wine would be splendid." I shook my head and turned towards the kitchen to get the liquor. I found a bottle of red wine I only used for cooking and a can of beer in the fridge. I ran back and after emptying Francis' bowl, I filled it with wine. He grinned a "Merci" at me and started lapping at it.

I emptied the contents of the beer can in Gil's bowl. "I know you want like it a lot, it's Sol, so it's light, but that 's all I've got." He grumbled a bit about "unawesome Mexican beers" but drank it down. The small yellow bird that inhabited the Prussian 's head came out and chirped happily as it drank small swallows of beer, making me frown. But I let it pass with no comment and turned to Antonio.

He was pouting. Aww, poor dear! I plopped in front of him and sat in a lotus position.

"Hey, 'Tonio. What do you want?" He turned his big green puppy-dog eyes at me.

"A tomato. And Romano." I smiled scratched behind he ear and went to bring him a tomato from the kitchen. I gave it to him, and he ate it, his mood improving somewhat.

"Who's Romano, 'Tonio?" The Spaniard gave me a big radiant smile. "Oh, he's the cutest thing, my little Italian! And when he gets angry he looks just like a tomato!" I smiled at how enthusiastic he sounded, even though he hadn't really answered my question. "Well, then, I guess we should go see him some day." Antonio practically nodded his head off.

I laughed and got up, running up the stairs and changed my jeans and tee for a pair of black sweat pants and a purple tank top. I scrambled back down, took the now empty bowls to the kitchen, placed them on the counter, got back to the living room and plopped down on the couch next to where Francis had curled up.

"Phew. That was fast. Anyway, you guys have to tell me what's going on so I can help you, okay?"

The wolves looked at each other, like they were agreeing to something silently. Turns out they didn't, because five seconds later they all started talking at the same time, very loudly, spouting things about Brits and eyebrows and curses and Romano(yes, that was Antonio. Again) and Austrian piano players. After twenty minutes of enduring the shouting of the crazy nations, I shrieked "Shut up!" And weirdly I did, all words coming to an abrupt halt, I took a deep breath.

"Wait, let me get this straight. Francis, you said something concerning the US to the impersonation of England, who's name is Arthur and he got really pissed and hurt from what I gathered. Then Gilbert decided to be an ass and laugh. So the English dude got more pissed off, remembered why he hated the whole Bad Touch Trio, you guys, and using black magic or some shit, he turned you into wolves, and you need his book of recitations to turn yourselves back into your human forms so you can run around, be nations and go see the guys you're head over heels in love with, even though you won't admit it, because you're typical guys. Well, except for Spain, dear, but that's irrelevant. Did I get it right?"

They stared for a beat, before Gilbert snarled at me. "In love with? What does that fucking mean? I'm not fucking in love with anyone! And don't you dare say anything about that stupid Austrian priss! And fuck you!" He ran off and went upstairs, while Francis closed his bright blue eyes and shook his head. He didn't deny anything I said. And I hadn't missed the pained wince that had covered his canine face I had talked about Arthur. I petted his head, running my fingers through his thick golden fur. He looked at me and a small smile formed at the edges of his lips.

"Sorry." I whispered, feeling guilt clog my throat for causing so much sadness. To him. To Gilbert. To Antonio, who brooded, thinking of Romano again.

Francis seemed to have shaken off his momentary sadness, and grinned at me. "Non, non, I'm fine." I raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" He nodded. "Oui, I'm fine. Vraiment." I shrugged. Okay, if he wanted to pretend his eyes didn't light up like lanterns when he said "Angleterre", or that he hadn't smiled ever so softly when Gilbert had said "That pissy crazy Englishman!", it was his business.

I looked at the clock. "Hey, it's 1:30 after midnight. We should go to bed." Francis Onhonhonhoned and said "Is that an invitation, cherrie?" I snorted and got up.

"Francis, dude, I'm sorry, but I'm not into bestiality. Like, seriously not into it." I headed towards the stairs, Antonio and the Frenchman at my heels.

"Gil! Come on! Stop being pissed! I'm sorry!" A white head poked out of the kitchen door and red eyes narrowed at me.

"You won't insult my awesomeness like that again, will you?" I smiled at him and the bird flying around his head.

"Is awesome the new word for asshole?" He growled at me and snapped his jaws at my ankles, but I laughed and stepped back. "Come on, I'll show you to your room, Mr Awesome." He nodded.

"That's how you should address me form now on." I turned my back to him and started climbing the stairs, ignoring Gilbert's comment.

I opened the second door to the left. "Here's the guest room. There's only one bed, but it's kingsized so you'll have to sleep together, if you don't want to crash on the floor." I left the wolves inspecting the room curiously.

Half an hour later, I was tucked in bed, my teeth brushed, and my oversize tee and blue men's boxers wrapped around my too-thin body. That's when Francis came in, a hairbrush and half a smirk hanging off his mouth.

"What is it now?" I grumbled as I sat up on the bed. The blond wolf hopped on the covers and placed the brush right in front of me.

"What's that." Francis rolled his eyes as I stared at the hairstyling equipment. "I thought that was obvious. It is a hairbrush. And I want you to brush my hai- I mean, fur, since I can't do it for myself seeing how I have no opposable thumbs." I gapped at him.

"Are you insane?" He smiled, the mad Frenchy. "No, just sensible. I don't want huge knots dangling off of me like I'm Prussia, or something." I looked at the ceiling in exasperation.

"Oh, good freaking Lord" I groaned, but picked up the brush and started running it through his fur. Francis settled in front of me with his head resting on his paws. I started humming an old song my mom used to sing as a lullaby. I didn't comprehend the words, but I liked how it sounded.

I continued stroking Francis' fur, as he sighed. "Where have you heard that song? It's in Breton." I nodded even though he couldn't see me, because his eyes where closed. "I know. My mom obsessed over Gaelic traditions, songs and such. She sang it to me when I was little."

"I used to sing it to Angleterre, so he could sleep. When he was little." I smiled softly. There it was again, his voice going soft as butter when he talked about that guy.

"Have you told him?" He frowned still not opening his eyes. "Told him, quoi?" I ran my fingers through the locks I'd brushed and it was like I had silk on my hands.

"That you love him. Have you told him?" Francis pulled away from me and the brush.

"No" he said a little too quickly for it to have been the truth and a little too sadly for it to have gone well. Then he left, practically running out of the room.

That was when I decided. These guys, even if they were downright bitches at times (cough, Gilbert, cough), they deserved love. And I was going to help them acquire it.

**A/N: Okie dokie, there went chapter 2. And this time I remembered I should put translations. So:**

**-Verpiss dich: Fuck off**

**-Mais, ma cherrie: But, my dear**

**-Vraiment: Really**

**-Quoi? : What?**

**Now, about that last part with the song. Breton is a Celtic language spoken in Brittany, which is in the very west and northern part of France. They still speak it in the region of Brittany, and under French law, it is an official language. But it's also classified as severely endangered. ** **It was also spoken in the western part of Britain around the 6****th**** century. The language sounds more like French than it does English(which is why Francis knows the song). **

**The particular song I was referring to is called "Ar soudarded zo gwisket e ruz". It's not really a lullaby, it's a story about the death of a warrior, but I liked how it sounded. And that's all.**

**Oh, and before I forget, reviews are always welcome, even if it's about how crappy this is. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Α/N: Damn, I'm sorry. This shouldn't have taken this fucking long. Fucking economics teacher not letting me write in her class... **

Sue's POV

I woke up the next morning in a strangely good mood. And also very early. It was only seven when I got out of bed and dragged myself out of my room. I decided I should check on the wolves to see if they were awake, or if they needed something, or if Gilbert had "awesomed up" the room or some shit like that.

Peeking inside the room from a crack in the doorway, I smiled softly at the three asleep canines curled around each other on the bed. But they were just so cute when they were sleeping! You couldn't have guessed if you saw them all up and awake. I shook my head, and went to the kitchen to make coffee.

I was humming to myself and making frying pancakes when Gilbert came stumbling down the stairs. "Good morning, Gilbo! Want any pancakes?" The big white wolf groaned. "Scheisse, girl, you're far too chipper at this hour." I rolled my eyes and held up my wooden spatula. "Dude, do you want pancakes or not?"

Ja, ja, I want some freaking pancakes, don't get your panties in a twist." I shook my head, chuckling. "Marmalade or maple syrup?" The German wolf groaned again. "What the fuck ever, I don't care. As long as it's food." So I piled a bunch of pancakes on a plate and poured about a ton of maple syrup over them and placed it on the floor in front of Gil's face.

"There you go, big boy. Eat to grow your awesomeness." He snorted and gave me a big wolfish toothy grin. "Danke." I bowed, and smiled.

"Bitte, dearie, bitte." He devoured his pancakes while he looked skeptically at me. When he was done and I had taken the plate at the sink, he said "How many languages can you speak? I noticed yesterday that you got all that rapid-fire German and French and Spanish we threw at you." I shrugged.

"Maybe your awesomeness has been rubbing off on me." I suppose he raised an eyebrow, but since he didn't have any it was a little hard to tell. "Okay, for real? I speak German, French, Spanish, Italian, Greek, Portuguese and Arabian. I am a true freak of nature, I know, but after learning how to speak Greek and Arabian fluently the others were pieces of cake." Gilbert stared at me.

"You _are _a freak of nature. What the hell would you do with so much languages? And how old are you? When the fuck did you have time to learn them? That's so overachieving, it's not even awesome." I snorted.

"French are my second mother language. My mom's from the French part of Canada. If you know French, Spanish and Italian are easy to learn. German is kinda like English, but with the same grammar as Greek. Although what annoys me with German is that I don't know any swear words. But anyway. It wasn't _that _hard. And I'm 18, just out of school." Gilbert gave up, shaking his head at me.

"Anyway, what do you guys want to do today? From what you said I figured this Arthur person lives in England, and we can't just pop in London. So how are we gonna get that book?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I'll just waltz in there and take it. Nobody can say no to my awesomeness." I faceplamed and chuckled at the same time. "Yeah, that's what you should do. Because the UK sounds like such an agreeable character. And of course he loves you like you're the queen."

"Kesesesese~ Ha! 'Course he does! Everyone does, they just don't know it yet!"

"Dude. He hates all your asses. Although I think he loathes Francis the most. But whatever."

"Meh. Who cares about what that bastard thinks? We have more important things to figure out here." This time I laughed for real and shook my head.

"Whatevs, man, whatevs. Now concentrate and try thinking of a plan or something. I mean, you have to use that awesome brain of yours once in a while." He narrowed his blood red eyes at me. "I use my awesome brain all the freaking time!"

"Well, okay, then, Gilbert, fucking shut up and use it now!" I snapped at him, and he snarled and grumbled, but he finally shut up. I sat at the table, munching on my practically-swimming-in-maple-syrup pancakes, and observing the dripping tap. Fifteen minutes later I was beginning to get a monster headache, and my pancakes were nearly finished. But then Gilbert, him being the truly awesome creature that he is, sprang up from where he had sat on the floor, and went to hit his face with the chair in front of him, but evaded it at the last moment.

"I know what we have to do!" I stared wide-eyed at him. "Really?" He nodded furiously.

"Ja! Damn fucking really! I'm just _that_ good!"

"So? So what is it?!" I asked deciding to leave his arrogance alone for a second, because there were more important things going on. Gilbert took a deep breath so he could probably start shouting his idea like a maniac, when the two remaining wolves came down the stairs, Francis trotting as usual, and Antonio dragging his paws on the carpet, like he was some kind of canine zombie. Which was hilarious, if you took into account how uppity he usually was. And the fact that when he saw the clock (which read 8 by now) his eyes nearly popped out, he whimper-groaned "Dios mio, that's so early..." and collapsed on the floor, made it even funnier.

"Bonjour, Prussia, Sue. What are you doing, mes chéries?"

"Good morning guys. Gilbert was just about to explain the brainstorm he just had about how we can take you back to your human bodies." Said wolf grinned wider than any Cheshire cat had ever dreamed of doing and said "When and where is the next World Conference, France?" Francis' eyes widened and he smiled slowly.

"October 15. In Vancouver." And I got it too. I smiled at them triumphantly and Ahhhhh-ed. They both nodded at me.

"Huh? I don't get it. And I really, _really_ miss my Romano." Antonio's voice came muffled because he was still lying face-first on the floor. I grinned at him, even though he couldn't see me. "Don't you worry, my Spanish friend. We'll be seeing Romano and all the others soon. Because it's October. And it's the 13th. And we're a 18 hour drive away from Vancouver. Rent a car, and we'll be there before you know it." Francis smirked and Gilbert cackled as Antonio got up from the floor so quickly he nearly fell again. "You mean, we'll be there tomorrow? In 24 hours?" I nodded and grinned at him.

He laughed. "Mi Romano! Haha! Do you think he'll have missed me? Oh, oh, and maybe he'll have some good tomatoes with him. Hmm, I bet he..." and he went on, Francis and Gilbert joining him, and in a bit they were laughing and shouting things at each other and I saw how much their friendship meant to them. They really cared for each other.

Smiling, I walked to the radio and flipped the switch on, getting almost instantly a rock station. I started dancing around, making more pancakes, and somehow Gilbert managed to throw the flour on the floor and spray all of us in the white powder. He laughed triumphantly, and as punishment I threw a handful of flour in his face. And then it was on.

"Who do you think you are, throwing flour at the awesome me?!" I cackled and threw him some more, while he chased me around the table. Francis had climbed on the table and was sprawled on it. So I launched an egg at him. That one shook him up. He stared at me as the yellow of the egg glided down his fur, before he muttered "Merde",sprang up and started running after me too. I grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at them, while at the same time I took a tomato from the counter and hit Antonio with it.

They caught with their teeth whatever they could find and tossed it at me. I laughed and they laughed with me, until we collapsed on the floor, and I made pancakes for all of us with the remaining batter.

So,my crazy wolves and I danced and laughed and ate pancakes and that was when I became the fourth member of the Bad Touch Trio.

**A/N: This is miserably short, but it's just a middle chapter before going to the main one with the World Conference and all that fun stuff. Now, about that 20 hour drive thing. I picked a random American state (Utah) and very politely asked Google how far away it is from Vancouver. I've never been to Utah, or Vancouver, so forgive any inaccuracies. **

**Oh, and I hope you saw how much my random OC likes maple syrup. I hope you got what I'm trying to say here and what will happen in future chapters. **

**Okie dokie, I think that's all. And again, I'm soooo sorry this is so short and lame.**

**Translations:**

**-Scheisse: Shit**

**-Danke: Thank you**

**-Bitte: You're welcome**

**-Bonjour: Good morning**

**-Merde: Shit**

**(Man, how I enjoy using my wide range of foreign swear words...) **


End file.
